The Theory of an Arrangement
by LiveLoveLikeMe
Summary: If anyone cares to believe it- and those who do are few and far between... okay, maybe she has Pongo on her side at least- Emma Swan-Mills is in an arranged marriage. Written for Swan Queen Week day 3: Arranged Marriage, Winter 2015
1. Chapter 1

Notes: OOPS. As someone just pointed out, I screwed Emma's last names all up. I used MM's and Swan but never Nolan and just... I don't know. It has now all been changed to Swan. Because Swan-Mills sounds a hell of a lot better than Nolan-Mills or Blanchard-Mills.

This was going to be one long one-shot but if you wait for me to finish it, it probably won't be up until like 4am. So instead, you shall get it throughout the day in increments.

* * *

If you asked anyone else—her wife, her parents, her in-laws, her son, random strangers on the street at 3:04 am outside Granny's—they would say it was a ridiculous assumption to make in this day and age. Some might even respond by sending her a book on popular conspiracy theories. But if you asked Emma Swan-Mills, she would tell you with the utmost certainty that she was in an arranged marriage planned by four conniving adults from the moment of her birth.

And if you asked her to elaborate—dear god, _why_ would you think that is a good idea?—you would get a very lengthy story of the life of Emma Swan. Everyone around you would groan, having heard it at least a dozen times before, but that would not be enough to deter the sheriff from her mission trying to find another person that agreed with her.

Despite the complete absurdity of the claim, Emma would always start into the story with the certainty that it made perfect sense, right from the beginning.

_**Point 1: At Which Point the Conniving Adults Hatched Their Plot… and Their Young**_

"Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh Henry I swear I will end you if you don't get this child out of me immediately!" Cora yelled through her clenched teeth. There was sweat on her brow that her husband tried to wipe away, but she had better ideas for how he could be useful. Unfortunately, the doctor didn't see it that way.

"Just few more centimeters, Cora. She'll come out when she's ready," the doctor said calmly from years of dealing with women in labor screaming at him—for good reason, mind you.

"Do you think I give a damn about when she's ready? I'm ready right now for her to stop tearing me apart from the inside." Cora groaned and slammed her fist down against the mattress.

"We can do this, dear. I'm sure when she's born you won't even be thinking about the pain and-"

"We?! Henry Mills, you do not get to say 'we' until you're laying here getting ready to shove our daughter out of your dick. Got it?" she growled. She longed for the days when men weren't permitted inside the delivery room, then thought better at it as she realized yelling at him took some of the edge off the pain.

"Yes, dear," the meek man smartly replied.

"Now, give me a kiss so I know you know this is just the labor talking." She cracked a smile at him, hoping to convey a bit of sympathy for the abuse she was putting him through—though not too much because the pain yanking at her insides kept reminding her that this was _all his fault._

Henry chuckled and obliged, giving his wife a well-deserved peck on the lips.

Seconds later, he was jumping away in pain, crying out in synchronization with his wife as she squeezed his hand through her contraction.

"Damn it, someone please just take her out!" Cora cried, nearly breathless after hours of labor.

Meanwhile, on the other side of a curtain separating the two beds in the room, another couple was just being ushered in.

"David, maybe this was a bad idea. She doesn't sound like she's having fun with this," Mary Margaret declared nervously.

As if to prove her point, a shout of "Labor fucking sucks!" echoed through the delivery room.

Her husband caught her by the arm before she could make her escape, much to Mary Margaret's dismay.

"Honey, I realize it may seem scary to you, but it's a little too late to change your mind. You can't just keep her inside forever," David reasoned.

"AUGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!" Cora yelled from the other side of the curtain, making both expectant parents cringe.

"You want me to make sure they give you the good drugs?" her husband asked, fear in his voice at the thought of what his wife was about to endure.

"Yes, please," she requested before finally hauling her large stomach onto the bed with the rest of her.

David left the room to track down a nurse while Mary Margaret looked around, trying to tune out the other occupant's cries of pain. They were doing nothing to help ease her into the process at all.

Quietly, she began to hum to herself, wishing David would hurry back. She felt a jolt of pain and gasped, clutching her stomach carefully in her hands. "Oh! That was the worst one yet." Mary Margaret pouted, thinking of the other woman's cries of agony.

"IS SHE FUCKING JOKING? Henry, I don't want her over there! Those weak little contractions are not helping me. Get. Her. OUT." This was followed by a series of deep breaths and pants, possibly some curse words though Mary Margaret couldn't be sure.

A short man with slightly balding hair stepped around the curtain and nervously waved at her. "I just want to apologize for anything she says to you. My wife has been in labor for a long time, I don't think she quite knows what she's saying at this point," he explained sheepishly.

"Henry Mills you know damn well I know what I'm saying! Now GET YOUR ASS BACK HERE!"

He nodded to Mary Margaret and scampered away just as she yelped at another jolting pain.

"Someone ordered some pain relief?" Dr. Whale asked as he stepped into the room with David. She smiled in relief and waved them over.

"Thank goodness. The contractions have been getting worse," she explained. The doctor smiled at her and pulled a chair up to the end of her bed.

"Let's have a look, shall we?" he asked. She obliged him by parting her legs and shifting the hospital gown to the side, hoping she would be far enough along for the pain-relief drugs to be administered.

"I'm afraid you're going to have to do this without anything to dull the pain," he announced.

Mary Margaret frowned and tried to ignore the cheerful "HA!" heard from the other side of the curtain.

"Is it too early?" she asked, still hopeful she could get them soon.

"Quite the contrary, it seems you're fully dilated. Let me grab a nurse and you're all ready to push!" he explained cheerily.

"ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME?!" Cora wailed.

_When all was said and done—and a lot was said, especially by Cora, who was less than thrilled her perky roommate was done so easily—there were two new additions to the world. Emma Noelle Swan and Regina Henrietta Mills joined the world exactly 47 minutes apart from one another on opposite sides of the hospital room curtain, and it was just after that time that Emma would forever claim her marriage had initially been arranged._

The men had left the room in search of lunch, leaving both Mary Margaret and Cora to fend for themselves for a while. Both women secretly knew their husbands were just a bit freaked out over the events of the day, so neither protested to them wanting a breather. They were happy to coo over their daughters.

Up until this point, though the curtain had been retracted, neither woman had said a word to the other. Mary Margaret was still slightly frightened and Cora, though madly in love with her new bundle of joy, still had a seed of jealousy in her mind that the younger woman had been gifted with such an easy birth in comparison. She was sure her love for Regina would have been the same had she just popped right out, but the fates had other ideas.

Mary Margaret watched as Cora wriggled in place, looking at the doorway frequently enough to fill the room with tension. Curious, she watched on as Cora winced and left her bed, only to try and place little Regina into her bassinette. Immediately, the baby wailed upon contact, only stopping when Cora sighed and once again cradled her in her arms.

"Are you all right?" Mary Margaret asked as she took in Cora's pained expression. She couldn't imagine not wanting Emma in her arms, yet Cora seemed desperate to do something with her own baby. Had she not already seen how much the woman positively adored her daughter, she would have been suspicious. Now, she was just concerned.

Cora glanced up at Mary Margaret with conflict in her eyes. She glanced at the doorway once more and sighed upon finding it empty. "I feel as though my bladder is going to burst at any second, but Regina refuses to be placed down. My husband is taking too long to get back."

"Oh." Mary Margaret pursed her lips in understanding. "I can hold her for you if you want."

"Are you sure?" Cora asked. There was unease to her words, but the desperation was clear.

"I insist. Just settle her in my lap next to Emma. Then maybe you could do the same for me?" she asked hopefully.

Cora sighed in relief and shuffled sorely over to Mary Margaret's bed. She propped her knees up and rested Emma back against them, securing her with one arm while Cora placed Regina alongside her. Both women held their breaths to see how the babies would react, and when victory was found in the form of no tears, they breathed joint sighs of relief.

"Thank you," Cora said before taking off in the direction of the private bathroom across the room.

Mary Margaret smiled and turned her attention to the girls, beaming down at them both. "Hello, Miss Regina. This is Emma. And Emma, I want you to meet Regina." Emma gurgled up at her and Regina watched her with wide peeping eyes, fully enthralled.

"You girls are so loved," she said with a happy sigh.

Just then, Regina managed to get an arm out of her swaddled confinement and reached it over in the direction of Emma, who had loudly rejected the very idea of swaddling earlier on. Her tiny hand jolted and landed right in Emma's equally tiny palm. If they were old enough to grip, she was certain they would have been holding hands.

Cora re-entered the room, looking much more relaxed than before, and Mary Margaret beamed up at her. "Quick, grab your camera, this is adorable!"

Not waiting to find out why, Cora did as instructed and brought a camera to Mary Margaret's bedside. "Oh, that's absolutely precious. It's like they're trying to hold hands," she gushed and snapped the picture.

Both women continued to gush over their daughters, and at some point, Mary Margaret scooted over enough to allow Cora to sit next to her. Both girls whined when their mothers had tried to separate them, so they settled for sharing the space and letting them interact. It was, after all, pretty damn cute.

"I think they like each other," Mary Margaret murmured.

"Indeed. It may be rather difficult to keep them apart after this," Cora agreed.

"Well, I've always wanted a play-date parent. We may just need to make an arrangement to keep these girls happy."


	2. Chapter 2

Notes: If anyone else noticed my name flub in the first chapter, sorry! I fixed Emma having multiple last names. However, to my anon reviewer who pointed it out to me: One, thank you, I hadn't even noticed I did that. However, I found your reasoning to be especially rude. There is no reason a baby, let alone a husband, could not take the last name of the woman in a relationship. It's not a slam on David, I like David, it just was not a big deal to me to use his last name over any other. That being said, I have corrected it so Emma is now Swan. Swan-Mills just sounds best.

* * *

_**Point 2: When Said Conniving Adults Put the Plan in Motion**_

_The beginning, Emma would argue to you, was really only important in theory. Over the years, she and Regina were rarely apart. They went to the same preschool, celebrated most of their holidays together, and even shared the same illnesses (usually not on purpose, of course, but Emma would argue that the connivers put them at risk in order to force the bond no matter what). _

_Next, she would tell you about the day all their hard work had come together, the day they started dreaming about being in-laws and went to extremes to have them with each other at every minute of the day._

_She would tell you of the time the connivers became neighbors (with totally motivated reasons, no matter how much they denied it had just been convenient, at least according to Emma)._

"Emma, hurry up sweetheart. Regina's waiting for us," Mary Margaret called. Her four year old zoomed past her, right toward the front door.

"Let's go, Mama! Regina no like to wait," Emma chirped impatiently. She was jumping up and down in the doorway, one shoe half on and the other up with her left hand inside.

"Regina can wait for you to get your shoes on," she admonished lightly.

Emma sighed and threw her shoe down dramatically. She then proceeded to plop down next to them and look up at her mother expectantly.

"Is Regina really gonna live with us?" she asked excitedly while Mary Margaret did all she could to get the shoes on her daughters bouncing feet. Emma really didn't like sitting still.

She shook her head and chuckled at the question. "Not _with_ us, Emma. She's going to be our new neighbor in the house right next door, so you can still see her all the time."

"I wish she could live _with_ us, but okay. That still sounds fun. Hurry up, Mama," little Emma commanded.

Today, the Mills family would officially be moving in next door. Mary Margaret had mentioned it to Cora over lunch one day that her obnoxious neighbors would finally be leaving. Somehow, this had turned into a funny discussion over how the only neighbors they would ever be pleased with were each other, which at some point went from just a funny idea to a serious thought.

And now, 5 months later, there were three U-Haul trucks parked out front, two very excited four year olds, and four parents ready to spend the day moving and unpacking boxes.

"Where's Daddy?" Emma asked just as Mary Margaret managed to somehow secure the second shoe onto Emma's foot.

"He already went over, sweetie. Mr. Mills wanted help moving the couches inside."

"Without me?" Emma asked, eyes wide as she pointed at herself in disbelief.

Mary Margaret merely chuckled at her daughter's reaction and rolled her eyes. "You're too little to move the couches, Emma."

"But Regina is moving in. Mama, I have to help!" Emma demanded, stomping her sneaker-clad foot for effect.

"Don't worry, I'm sure Mrs. Mills has something you and Regina can help with. Now, do we want to stand here all day talking about how unfair it is, or do you want to go see Regina?" she asked, raising a stubborn eyebrow.

"Regina! Regina!" Emma sang, spinning around and bouncing at the closed front door.

"Emma, don't run!"

But it was useless. As soon as the door was open wide enough for Emma to squeeze her way through, she was tearing across the front yard in the direction of the Mills' new home. She sighed and spotted her husband, making sure he could see Emma before she turned to lock up their home.

"Silly girl," she mumbled to herself.

Emma, meanwhile, had spotted Regina sitting on her new front porch and playing with one of her Barbie dolls.

"Regina!" she called, not slowing in her run to get to her best friend.

"Emma, you came!" Regina yelled back. She gently set her doll on the step before taking off much like Emma had and pulled the blonde into a tight hug.

"My Mama said you live here now."

Regina nodded enthusiastically and grabbed onto Emma's hand. "Come on, I have to show you a s'prise!"

Emma followed obediently, waiting when Regina paused to pick up her doll and then continuing on after. Her friend took her into the big white house and up a long staircase.

"Oh, we can play princess here! Look, it's like the upstairs is a big tower!" Emma exclaimed in excitement, even as Regina continued on. She did not stop, however, for Regina still had a hold of her hand—and really, even at that age, Emma was whipped.

"Mhmm, but we can do that later. First, you have to see my new room!" Regina explained impatiently.

Emma nodded and let the brunette lead her into the second door to the left at the top of the stairs. It had been painted pink the week before, and but still the room was empty aside from a stack of boxes piled against one wall, an open chest of toys on the floor, and one giant…

"Woah." Emma's jaw dropped as she took in the most magnificent sight of her young life. The sides were a beautiful rich oak, sturdy enough to hold even her Daddy probably, and the delicately carved flowers all along the side were simply stunning, so much so that all thoughts of playing princess on the stairs flew out the window. This singular moment represented to her the holy grail, the most sacred thing she had ever seen, a true work of art in the deepest way.

"Bunk bed," Emma whispered in awe.

"Isn't it cool?" Regina asked excitedly, grabbing Emma's arm and jumping up and down.

"You're so lucky!"

"Mommy says it's so you can have sleepyovers with me," Regina declared proudly.

_Yes, Emma would tell you, the sleepovers were only the beginning of their evil plotting. I mean, really, what screams "get together already" more than giving you a bed to share?! Nothing. Absolutely nothing._

"That sounds fun, but who sleeps where?" Emma asked, already eyeing the top of the bunk bed like it was her single mission in life.

"Hmm." Regina put a finger to her chin and looked at the bed thoughtfully. "You can sleep on top. I too scared I'm gonna fall up there."

"Okay. Wanna play princess in here? This is an even better tower!" Emma squealed in delight.

Regina nodded and took off toward the bed, eyeing the ladder nervously.

"Don't worry, I'll catch you," Emma promised her nervous friend.

Reassured, Regina stuck one foot on the ladder and began to pull herself up.

"Girls." A voice from the doorway stopped them both.

"Mommy, I was showing Emma my new bunk bed," Regina explained proudly.

Cora smiled down at her and walked further into the room. "I see that, darling, but remember what we talked about? No climbing to the top until you're older, unless there's an adult in the room," Cora chastised.

"But Mommy, how is Emma gonna sleepyover if we can't go up?" Regina scrunched up her face in thought. Emma too looked at Cora expectantly.

"You can both easily fit together in the bottom, why don't you share?" Cora suggested.

_That's right, she said share. As in, can't get close enough on two separate mattresses, so why don't I just prepare you for your marriage now._

_At this point, Regina would usually give one of her excellent eye rolls and remind Emma that they were four, and that she was being absurd to think it was anything more than their parents not wanting Emma—a notorious klutz, mind you—to go anywhere near the edge of a bed so high off the ground. Emma would insist that was just a lame excuse until Regina brought up that time last year she tried to sit at the top of Henry's bunk bed._

_But that's a story for another day, unrelated to the point Emma would wish to tell you, so she would promptly silence Regina with a playful slap on the butt and carry on as if the interruption had never occurred._

"Mrs. Mills, will you stay so Regina can go up now? We trying to play princess," Emma explained, looking up at the adult with wide eyes. She was very certain Cora would see her logic, as naturally, it was foolproof.

"Sorry, dear, but it's move-in day. I need to go unpack some boxes, or we'll never have any plates to eat lunch on. You girls will just have to find something else to play."

"Like what?" Regina piped up.

"How about wedding? Your dress-up box is right over here," Cora suggested. She pulled the box down from the stack at the wall and opened it, placing it between the girls.

"But how? We don't have any boys?" Regina asked.

"Yuck." Emma made a gagging noise off to the side. "Boys are gross."

Regina rolled her little eyes. "But who else are we s'posed to marry?"

"Why not each other?" Cora suggested, already halfway out of the room. "I'm sure you girls will figure something out."

_That's right, Emma would state with a self-satisfied tut. Because, of course, that day was really just the rehearsal for the real thing._

_Of course._


	3. Chapter 3

Notes: I got really into this part. Hehe, I don't think any of you will mind that, though. I'm so glad people are enjoying this, because I'm having a blast writing it.

As a side note, to those who read Come Around Roommate, I know several people have asked me to continue it. However, as I do not see it going anywhere original, it will remain a one-shot for now. Sorry!

As always, I would love to hear what you think about this!

* * *

_**Point 3: The Slow and Methodical Implanting of the Seed**_

_The next stage in her marriage, according to Emma, came over a series of moments. On their own, they may have seemed like innocent little occurrences. Hell, she hadn't even noticed what was happening at the time, so manipulated by the connivers. But together, oh, then they had a whole new meaning._

_They were slowly but surely working to implant the seed of an idea into her mind, like a microchip._

_Henry, at this point, would butt in to say Emma watched too many space movies._

_Emma would retort that they appealed to her because she lived them._

_Again, Regina would roll her eyes._

_Emma would promptly ignore her wife, which she would regret later in the evening, and begin by recounting the first of many occurrences._

"Emma, before you head upstairs, come here. I was out shopping with Cora and we found the most darling tops for you. I want you to try them on," Mary Margaret called from the kitchen. Emma, having just returned from school, shrugged her backpack off, ditched it at the bottom of the steps, and reluctantly made her way to her mother.

"Mom, you didn't have to do that," she said hesitantly. Truthfully, Emma always feared for her life when her mother did her clothes shopping for her. She still shuddered at the thought of that cardigan with the damn pink butterfly on the pocket that had gotten her detention in the 6th grade.

Okay, well, the cardigan itself hadn't really been the reasoning for her detention, but it was definitely still to blame. The actual punishment—according to the teacher who Emma knew _so wasn't even there_—was in regards to the fact that she had punched out Bobby Madden.

But he had totally made fun of her cardigan first. That damn butterfly.

Emma was relieved, upon entering the kitchen, to see that there were no butterflies in sight. While she was aware that they could still be in the shopping bags, at least she still had her hope.

"Come, come! Truthfully, the shirts were Cora's idea."

Emma smiled and sighed to herself. Regina was always dressed impeccably, one might even say stunningly. "One" being someone other than Emma, of course, because she would never think of Regina like that. Well, she would, but she would never _say it._

Okay, maybe she would do that too.

But anyways, Regina always looked good, meaning Cora had good taste, so she had nothing to worry about.

Then her Mother pulled out the flannel, and Emma had to question her earlier assessment of Cora's taste.

"Isn't it cute? She talked me into it, and I have to agree, it really screamed your name at me," Mary Margaret gushed.

"Green plaid screamed my name? Are you sure?" Emma asked wearily.

Despite the situation with the butterfly, Emma had always dressed a bit more on the feminine side. She liked her jean skirts and tank tops, just like Regina wore and sometimes let her borrow if she promised not to eat while wearing or within 15 feet of them. This flannel, however, was the complete opposite of what she typically would be caught dead in.

Maybe the mothers were drunk when they shopped? It would explain Mary Margaret hearing voices coming from the shirt, after all.

Emma shook her head and brought herself back to the present issue. "Is that all?" she asked, hoping above all that the answer would be yes. "I mean, it's already so nice of you to have gotten me this one."

Mary Margaret beamed, apparently taking her sarcasm for actual approval. "Actually, they were having a sale. By two get one half off! So I went ahead and got you three." She then proceeded to pull out a matching orange and a purple top.

"Great!" Emma said through gritted teeth. "I went from owning no plaid flannel to three in one day. That's so great. Lucky me."

"Well, go try it on!" Mary Margaret ordered in the bubbliest way possible, like someone who has just downed an entire pot of coffee, only it was her everyday uncaffeinated persona at work. "Cora said you can come for dinner, since they're having your favorite lasagna tonight. It would be great if you wore it so she could see how nice you look. I'm sure Regina will just love it!"

"Why would I care what Regina loves?" Emma asked wearily.

Mary Margaret just shook her head and went back to preparing dinner for herself and David. "Emma, please, you literally refuse to buy anything without getting her approval in some form first."

"She just has good taste." Emma frowned.

"I know, which is why her mother insisted you wear it tonight. She got one for Regina for Christmas and wants to make sure she doesn't hate it first."

Emma grumbled and went to change.

_After recounting that little unforgivable incident, Emma would rant to you about how the connivers forced her into PLAID FLANNEL. A.K.A., the official lesbian uniform. It was like they were trying to prepare her for her future needed wardrobe, which obviously they could only know if an arrangement had been made without her consent._

_Never mind the fact that Emma ended up really liking the plaid flannel. In her defense, it was really comfortable, so naturally she incorporated it into her wardrobe when Regina said it looked good on her._

_But that was only the start._

"What the hell is that?!" Emma yelled upon walking inside her front door and being greeted by a furry ball of doom and claws.

"Awe, it's a kitty!" Regina squealed before dropping down to the floor and petting the orange beast.

"Regina, be careful! Don't touch it!" Emma cried, but it was too late. The brunette was already cradling the monster in her arms and smiling down at it while it made some strange rumbling noise.

"Regina, put it down. What's it doing?" she asked, worried.

"It's _purring_, Emma. Haven't you ever seen a cat before?" she asked, not at all amused by Emma's antics.

Emma huffed and blushed a little, though she would never admit to the later. "Sure, I've seen a cat before, I've just never heard one sound like it's ready to open a vortex to its stomach and eat you whole."

Regina rolled her eyes and continued petting the happy kitty.

Her mother entered then, also looking happy about the beast sitting in Regina's arms. Emma felt bothered, though she couldn't pinpoint specifically why.

"Mary Margaret, she's absolutely darling. I didn't know you were getting a cat," Regina gushed. The whole Mr. and Mrs. thing had been stopped several years ago, as it seemed entirely too formal and pointless, as Emma had bravely informed them.

"Well, we know you're going to be visiting your grandparents for the next few weeks, so we thought Emma might get lonely," her mother explained.

Regina chuckled in that whimsical yet throaty way that was entirely hers. "She's like Regina 2.0. Good thinking, Emma might actually go five minutes without texting me if she's here to keep her company."

"I am right here, you know," Emma grumbled in annoyance.

Regina rolled her eyes, of course. "Like it or not, Emma, you are going to miss me. Regina 2.0 might be good for you."

"I am not going to call that thing Regina 2.0. No way. Not happening." As if to defy her, the cat hissed and bared her fangs at Emma.

"Besides," Emma continued, decidedly ignoring the feral intrusion, "I do have other friends, you know."

Regina scoffed at this. "You have Ruby and Belle, who you barely ever speak to outside of school. Like it or not, Emma Swan, you could benefit from a fill-in Regina while I'm away."

"Exactly," David added. Emma wasn't sure when he had entered but groaned nevertheless. They were all ganging up against her.

With a grumble, Emma snatched her new furry pal—who, okay, maybe was a little bit cuter than she was willing to admit—and stomped up the stairs away from the laughing trio.

"Maybe _she'll_ actually let me call her Gina."

Regina 2.0 did not let her call her Gina either.

_This is where Emma would be certain she has you on her side. Cats, she would argue, are like the official lesbian animal. Regina would scoff at this because, how the hell could there be an official animal for a sexual orientation? Emma would swear she isn't being ridiculous, but naturally no one agrees with her._

_Generally a joke about liking pussy would come next, but some things are better left censored out from Emma's story telling for the sake of her quickly rising embarrassment levels._

_Emma knows she should stop there, but of course, she never does, and into the next story she goes._

"Emma," Mary Margaret began when she saw her daughter enter the kitchen for an afterschool snack. It had been a shitty day to top all shitty days, as Regina was home sick from school. The look her mother was giving her was not helping to make it any better. "I got you something."

"Oh?" Emma asked, still remembering the flannel incident and hoping it was something better this time.

"Cora called and said Regina wasn't feeling well, but you can still head over if you want. She thought she might appreciate your company. So, I was going to wait for your birthday, but I figured you two would enjoy this now." Mary Margaret held out a DVD case. Curious, Emma took it from her mother and read the title.

"Imagine Me and You?" she read aloud. Emma squinted, curious about the strange title. Were those two women holding hands?

"I heard about it and thought you girls might enjoy it," she explained.

"Um, thanks?" Emma wasn't sure if that should be a compliment or an insult quite yet, so she decided to play it safe by tossing in a smile.

"Henry ran out to get a pizza for you two, since he and Cora have plans. You should hurry if you want to get there first so you can get all settled in."

"I just have to grab a few things and I'll head over, thanks!" Emma called, already jogging to the stairs. That pizza, after all, wouldn't wait forever.

Within five minutes, Emma had her backpack filled with her laptop and the charger, the DVD, her favorite stuffed bear, and a book she was supposed to read for English—something about a red alphabet, or something, she wasn't sure and doubted she'd be choosing tonight to find out. Emma also changed into a pair of grey sweatpants and one of her classic white tank tops, as this would clearly be a comfortable girls' night in.

"See ya!" Emma called out to her parents as she booked it out the front door.

Cora was already waiting for her in the doorway when she arrived, meaning her mother must have phoned over in the last few minutes to alert them. She took in the older woman's appearance—she was dressed elegantly in a slimming black gown with simple tear drop earrings to accessorize.

Emma wolf-whistled appreciatively. "Damn, looking good, Cora. Some dude is gonna be lucky have you on his arm tonight."

Cora scoffed and waved her off but the smile was clear on her face. "I put enough work into this, my husband better appreciate it."

"You look lovely, my dear," Henry added, walking out from the kitchen in a suit of his own that added a hint of dashing to the normally mousy man. "Emma, the pizza is in the kitchen, and I'm sure you know where you'll find my daughter."

"Under a mound of blankets in bed, bitching over every sneeze like she's dying?" Emma guessed.

"That would be correct." Cora groaned. "I love my daughter, but part of me is pleased to know she has you to look after her tonight while we are away."

"Got a hot night planned?" Emma winked suggestively.

"Emma Swan!" Cora gasped, though really, she had heard much worse from the crude blonde over the years. Emma thought she should have gotten a high five for that one, personally, but adults never seemed to see things the same way.

"My work is having a gala of sorts in the city. It's a bit of a drive, so we may be back rather late," Henry explained, never one for acknowledging Emma's jokes. She strangely liked that about him, but it was way too much fun to see how much she could get away with sometimes.

"Not to worry, I brought reinforcements for my Regina-sitting duties." Emma held up her bag proudly.

"Thank you. Good luck, dear." Cora gave Emma a pat on the shoulder before disappearing out the front door, Henry in tow.

Emma snagged the pizza from the kitchen, along with two bottles of coke—one diet, of course, because Regina would drink nothing else—and headed upstairs.

It was difficult for her to hold in the laugh upon seeing her best friend, or rather, the mound of tissues and blankets that were piled on top of her best friend.

"I come bearing reinforcements. So scoot over," Emma commanded, not even bothering to wait for a sign of life.

Gone was the childhood bunk bed, replaced instead by an elegant canopy with curtains that could be closed all around it. Emma wriggled her way in and set to work while Regina groaned beside her. First, she cleared the crumpled up tissues away, half-hazardly tossing them on the floor. Regina could kill her later. Within minutes, she had it all set up—backpack at the bottom of the massive king-sized mattress, laptop between them, pizza box on her lap, and bottles of pop secured by their lids propped up between two pillows. Satisfied, she closed the curtain all but a foot to let some light in and wriggled under the blankets.

Decidedly ready, Emma peeled the top of the covers away from Regina's face. The brunette glared at her and coughed, barely covering her mouth. Emma grimaced and she rolled her eyes. "Please, you're already in bed with me, and you've been with me every day this week. It doesn't matter what I do to you, you're doomed." Regina punctuated this with another cough.

"Glad you're so concerned about my health," Emma deadpanned.

"I feel terrible," Regina whined.

"Again, glad you're so concerned."

But of course, Emma was concerned enough for the both of them as she took in the sight of her possibly feverish and sniffling friend. She helped Regina into a sitting position and moved to sit against her, placing the laptop so it was balanced on their shared lap space.

"Here, I brought you someone to make you feel better." She held out her beloved bear, who Regina eagerly grabbed and hugged to her chest.

"Mr. Stuffington! I'm honored, Emma. I already… feel… better," Regina said stubbornly between her coughs.

"Sounds like it," Emma joked. Secretly, she was pleased her old friend was bringing comfort to her, even if it was just a little.

"My Mom got us a movie, and your parents got us pizza," Emma explained. She handed Regina a slice, who grimaced upon realizing she hadn't brought any plates up. "You'll be fine, Princess," Emma promised.

Grumbling, Regina leaned into Emma's side, still nibbling on her pizza with Mr. Stuffington tucked under her outside arm.. Emma put an arm around her shoulders, allowing the brunette to relax more, and hit play on the movie. She only paused it a few times when Regina needed to cough or blow her nose, definitely not because she was concerned. Nope, no way was Emma concerned.

She just didn't want to miss any of the dialogue.

_Emma rightfully gets in trouble after telling this particular story._

_To her, it's evidence over the fact that the connivers had left them with the OFFICIAL LESBIAN MOVE (Regina has her own complaints about Emma's officialization of everything gay-related)._

_To Regina, it's an adorable story of how she took care of her being ruined by Emma's idiocy._

Emma was coming home from school with Regina one day, and a strange brightly colored fabric caught her eye, waving above her house in the sun.

"Uh, what's with the flag?"

"Gay pride!" her mother yelled from where she was working in the garden, no further explanation provided.

Emma looked to her neighbor's home to see the Mills sporting an identical one.

Regina merely shrugged, unfazed, and kissed Emma on the cheek before returning home.

_Emma always would think this is the point at which she has succeeded in her goal. After all, what screams arranged marriage more than a gay rights rainbow flag being strung above your home? Well, actually, a lot of things do. Which Regina always points out to her._

_In return, thinking she's oh-so clever, Emma would say that she was not gay yet, so there was no need for the flag._

_It would then be Henry's turn to look at his mother in disappointment and sigh, because obviously, gay rights can be supported by anyone, and Emma was gay long before she came out._

_Still unconvinced, Emma would then be interrupted from making a point by her wife, who finds it prudent to point out they were practically dating. What do you mean? Dating?! Never! SO what if Regina had adopted a style of kissing her cheek before leaving? That didn't mean…_

"_Well nobody told me!" Emma would then yell, and every time, her wife would chuckle at her before Emma could go on another rant to you about the arranged relationship she had just become aware of._

_Because, of course, the journey to her arranged marriage would be far from over, and anyone within earshot would groan at the realization._


End file.
